


on this treasure

by j_gabrielle



Series: perhaps, this [4]
Category: Black Panther (2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Arranged Marriage, Consort!Erik, Domestic, Doting!T'Challa, Fluff, M/M, T'Challa spoils Erik, happiness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-27
Updated: 2018-02-27
Packaged: 2019-03-24 13:20:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13812003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/j_gabrielle/pseuds/j_gabrielle
Summary: T’Challa leans over to pull his Consort closer to him by the hips. Erik allows it with a soft breathy laugh. He is absolutely besotted. Sliding a hand to the small of Erik’s back and the other to tilt his head, T’Challa sighs into their kiss, content to just spend the rest of the day sharing breaths and languidly tasting each other.





	on this treasure

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from the lyrics of 'My My My' by Troye Sivan
> 
> (Which is an absolute banger, and T'Challa totally fucked Erik to the acoustic version. #headcanon)

“Will you tell me about these?” T’Challa asks. He thumbs at the collar of Erik’s sleep shirt, his sleep shirt that somehow Erik has taken to wearing, the edge of his nail catching on the raised skins of Erik’s chest. The morning light shafts through the blinds over the windows, lighting up on Erik’s cheek.

“Some day. Maybe.” Erik says. T’Challa smiles and allows him that. 

Erik still does not speak about the past much and T’Challa is patient enough to wait him out. He can see it in his Consort’s eyes, the wariness at T’Challa's ease at letting this go. But they’re only under a month past their wedding and in what most people call the ‘honeymoon’ stage. If T’Challa is letting anything go, it is the idea that he could have ever been without Erik at all. And so, if Erik tells him ‘some day’, he’ll accept it.

T’Challa leans over to pull his Consort closer to him by the hips. Erik allows it with a soft breathy laugh. He is absolutely besotted. Sliding a hand to the small of Erik’s back and the other to tilt his head, T’Challa sighs into their kiss, content to just spend the rest of the day sharing breaths and languidly tasting each other. They’ve gotten good at it. Kissing has become familiar and welcomed. 

“Mother wants us to have brunch with her.” Erik reminds him when he moves away. He is smirking, eyes crinkling.

“We have time.”

“But I promised Shuri I would help her test out a new compound she was working on.” Erik untangles himself from T’Challa. “And I’d rather not test the limits of her ability to wait. Remember what happened on Monday?”

“Oh, yes.” T’Challa groans, relinquishing Erik regretfully.

They had been late for an appointment with his sister and she had come looking. Only to find them in a state of undress with T’Challa, for the lack of better term, biting down on Erik’s neck. Shuri had taken one look at them and huffed, crossing her arms and telling them they have two minutes to get ready. It had been mortifying for Erik and he couldn’t stop blushing the whole day, and Shuri had teased them mercilessly, calling T’Challa a perv from leaving marks in the obvious shape of his mouth like a necklace around Erik’s neck.

Before Erik can move too far away, T’Challa takes his hand to his lips, brushing kisses to his knuckles. Smiling up at his husband, he lets him go to get dressed.

Erik tugs the shirt over his head, draping it over the back of a chair as he walks to their closet. T’Challa feels a curl of satisfaction at the marks, both old and new, littering Erik’s skin. There are marks of mystery, ones that Erik has yet to explain, but there are ones familiar to him. Like the one shaped like his teeth on the dimple of Erik’s lower back.

“Can I join you for a shower?” He calls out, smirking when Erik peeks a scowling face from the doorway. 

“No. If we do that, we’re definitely not leaving this room.” He grumbles, “And I can still feel the muscle I pulled the last time we did that.” Erik winces. Stepping back into the room with a towel draped low on his waist and a change of clothes to leave on the bed, he stops to nuzzle against T’Challa’s cheek. “Be good.”

For his part, he reaches up to grab him in for a proper kiss. “Only for you.” He whispers, intoxicated.

Erik looks equal parts love struck and breathless. T’Challa decides that this is a good look on him. “Just for a few hours.” He promises, “I know you have the afternoon off after your budget meeting with the Merchants.”

“And?”

“And. And I know that you’ve planned a trip for us to Paris.” Erik smirks, tapping the seam of his mouth playfully. “Paris? Really?”

“I rented out Le Jules Verne just for us.” 

Erik startles at this. “You what?”

T’Challa feels the corner of his lips tugging upwards. Stealing a quick press of their lips, he gently rests his hands on Erik’s hips. Looking up at the man, he nuzzles against the knot of his towel. “I’ve seen a lot of the world. I have been to most of the wonders. I don't know if you have ever been yourself, but I want I want to see them all again with you by my side.” He admits, “I want to make memories with you in every city, every street. I want to relearn them all, holding your hand in mine. I want you imprinted in everything.” 

Erik lets loose a rush of breath at that, visibly swallowing. “T’Challa, when you say things like that, you make things very difficult for me.”

“In what way?” T’Challa smiles as Erik takes a step back. Undoing the knot at his hips, he lets drop the towel. Not breaking eye contact, standing in the morning light dressed in nothing but a high flush to his cheeks and a shy smile.

There is something flitting in the warmth of Erik’s heated gaze as he climbs to straddle T’Challa. He tries to divine it, but is suitably distracted when strong arms come round his shoulders and Erik’s cock at half mast rubs against his clothed abdomen.

“Aren’t you scared of being late?” T’Challa asks, caressing him.

Erik shakes his head, leaning in to kiss down the side of T’Challa's neck. The quiet hush of his breath against his pulse point releases him of any thought but that of pleasuring his Consort.

 

[And if Okoye comes into the lab an hour later, and Shuri takes one look at her face and rolls her eyes, muttering darkly about boys and their libido, well. No has to know.]

**Author's Note:**

> Le Jules Verne is an actual restaurant at the Eiffel Tower in Paris. I wanted to go the last time I was in the city, but it's so expensive and I was, and am, broke. You can check them out [here](https://www.lejulesverne-paris.com/en). They're pretty popular so bookings fill up quite quickly.
> 
> You can leave me some moodboard requests [Here](http://hardheartshere.tumblr.com/ask) or you can leave me some fic requests [Here](http://randomingoftherandomness.tumblr.com/ask)


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